


Get Baked

by benicemurphy



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Awkwardness, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Shorter is a little shit, Strangers to Lovers, but it's a marijuana bakery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy/pseuds/benicemurphy
Summary: Eiji has a special bakery.Ash has chronic anxiety.Shorter has two friends who would be absolutelyperfectfor each other.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152
Collections: #ficwip 5k





	Get Baked

**Author's Note:**

> This is a _very light_ M for discussion of drug use (but it's legal in the fic, so do with that what you will). I ask that you suspend disbelief a little - some of this is based on my own experience with recreational dispensaries in my state, but to my knowledge there are no bakeries like this, with fresh-baked treats and whatnot, anywhere that I could access them. So just... go with it. I got to the end and wondered why I didn't just write this in a regular dispensary, but whatever lol here it is!
> 
> Sorry for any typos or weirdness that may be present due to me not proofreading this at all.
> 
> Thanks, ficwip, for hosting the challenge! It was a fun reprieve from my usual high-stress writing behavior!

“Just come by, man. I’m serious. We have a bunch of shit that could help you out.”

Ash sighs loudly into the phone, probably because he knows the static pisses Shorter off. “Fine. I’ll come. But only because there’s nothing better to do.”

“Great!” Shorter exclaims. “See you soon. I’ll be in the back baking, so just tell Eiji you’re here for me.”

Shorter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket and pokes his head out of the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the front counter area. “Eiji!”

“Hm?”

Eiji turns, the bakery lights shining behind his head like a halo. He looks straight out of a manga, clutching a tray of cupcakes and smiling innocently. He’s the actual human embodiment of a cinnamon roll — the perfect amount of charming and disarming to bust through _anyone’s_ defenses, even anxious, high-strung assholes who haven’t let themselves love since they were fourteen years old.

He has no idea what’s coming.

“Got a friend coming in. He doesn’t smoke but he’s gonna try some edibles.”

Eiji sets the tray down and begins to place the cupcakes into the display. “So what do you need me for?” he asks. “You know what to recommend. You bake them.”

“He won’t listen to me,” Shorter says with an exaggerated pout. “Says I’m an idiot.”

“You are an idiot.” The response comes without hesitation. “But you know edibles.”

“Just look out for him, yeah? I’m about to start a batch of croissants, so I might be busy when he gets here. Not sure when he’s coming.”

Shorter _absolutely_ knows when he’s coming in, and he knows that making croissant dough by hand will take way longer than Ash’s drive over.

“Okay, fine,” Eiji says, waving him away. “Go back to work.”

“Yes, boss!” Shorter calls, and saunters back to his station to ready his ingredients.

He’s layering the butter when the buzzer that signals a new customer sounds. Because they sell cannabis goods, all customers have to be ID’d before they can come in, but since they’re a privately-owned business, they can’t afford to hire someone to stand at the door and check IDs. He listens for the sound of the door opening and Eiji’s cheerful voice asking, “ID please?” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and then he hears Eiji say, “Come in! What can I do for you?”

It’s unmistakably Ash, the way he walks, the uncertain “Um,” that signals he feels wrong-footed in a new place. “I’m here to see Shorter,” he says. Shorter doesn’t bother to come out.

“Oh, he told me you’d be coming. I’m Eiji.”

“Ash.”

“Shorter is busy right now, but I can help with anything you’re looking for. Is there anything in particular that interests you?”

Shorter can’t actually _see_ Ash at this angle, but he can practically feel the way Ash goes red like he does when he’s flustered and irritated.

“He asked me to come in and he can’t even come meet me? _Tch._ ”

“Ah, sorry, just a minute.”

The door bursts open and he’s met with Eiji’s disapproving face. “You come out here and say hello to your friend. You didn’t tell me you _asked_ him to come in, you jerk!”

“Ash is a big boy,” Shorter shrugs. “He can buy a cookie or whatever without me.”

Eiji’s stare hardens. “You are being very rude.” He may be a cinnamon roll, but he can be firm and scary when he wants to be. Shorter always feels uncomfortably scolded when Eiji is gently disappointed with him. Ash needs that.

He dusts his hands off as best he can and shoulders his way through the swinging door. “Yo!” He’s internally overjoyed that Ash is exactly as red as he imagined. “Got here quick, eh?”

“You told me to come, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shorter waves a dismissive hand, dropping a glob of dough that was stuck to his palm onto the clean floor. “Oops.” Eiji fumes. “Listen, I gotta finish these croissants. Just talk to Eiji until I’m done. I’ll be quick.”

He makes his escape before Ash can argue, even though he can clearly hear his displeasure through the door. Ash isn’t a rude person, though, so after a few minutes pass, he’s talking with Eiji about the various types of edibles the bakery offers.

___________________________

The display case is filled with innocuous-looking pastries. On the inside, it looks like a completely normal bakery, aside from the strong smell of cannabis wafting from the kitchen. Ash could smell it from the outside, too, but it’s far more pungent now. It’s not like it’s an unfamiliar smell, either; growing up best friends with Shorter, he’s been familiar with it for years — Griffin, too, especially after he came home from the war.

Truth be told, the only reason he’s here now is because he’s seen how much it helps Griff. His own anxiety has been way too high for way too long — fourteen years of anger and self-loathing — and he’s _tired_.

Besides, Eiji seems like a nice enough person. Shorter has been working with him for a year and has only ever had nice things to say, which is a good enough endorsement for Ash.

“So, do you know what you’re looking for?” Eiji asks. He gestures to the pastries to the left of the register. “These are made with sativa. These are what Shorter usually takes with him after his shift. Amazingly, there are always two or three extras.” Ash thinks he hears a bit of cheekiness in Eiji’s words, and it makes him smile.

Eiji moves to the other side of the register. “These are made with indica. These are better if you prefer a calmer, more mellow experience. I take these when I’ve had a very stressful day and need to relax.”

Ash looks between the two displays. The sweets look basically the same aside from the decorations. The ones on the sativa side are more colorful and playful, whereas the indica treats have more natural coloring and less ornamentation. On the wall behind the counter are all kinds of breads — sliced loaves of all shapes and sizes, bagels, English muffins, and a dwindling supply of croissants.

“What’s in the bread?”

“Oh, nothing!” Eiji says. “Those are just bread. But we have cannabutter that people like to spread on them, if you’re interested. Or we could produce a batch made with the butter of your choosing, but that adds a production fee to the price because we can’t bake the other breads at the same time.”

Ash takes the time to really look around the shop. It’s not just pastries. There are lollipops, hard candies, gummy candies, vats of butter, and bottles of oil, all apparently made with different strands of marijuana.

“Shorter made all of these?”

“Well, not all of them,” Eiji says. “I usually make the candies. They have a much longer shelf life and can be made in bigger batches.”

“Hm.” Ash takes a closer look at the candies. “I’m not really into sweets. I don’t snack much.”

“Edibles are a bit of a funny choice then,” Eiji says, and Ash knows he’s not mistaken about the teasing in his tone this time. “How about this— you tell me what you need, and I’ll pick some things out for you.”

Ash reaches up the scratch the back of his neck. The idea of telling a stranger about his mental problems doesn’t make the top of his list of fun things to do; after all, he’s had more therapists than friends in his lifetime, and he still doesn’t feel comfortable opening up to new people.

As if he can read Ash’s mind, Eiji interrupts his thoughts. “You don’t need to get into specifics. I just need to know if you’re looking for a floaty kind of high, a relaxed kind of high, or something in between.”

“Uh, I... maybe something to help me sleep?”

“Okay,” Eiji agrees easily.

Well, that wasn’t so bad.

Eiji goes through and picks out a lollipop, a blondie, and four gummy pumpkins.

“No!” Ash cries before he can stop himself. Eiji lifts an eyebrow at him, gummy pumpkins hovering above the container he’s about to seal them into. “Maybe the, uh, the kitty cats. They’re... cute.”

He swears he can hear Shorter snickering all the way in the back.

Eiji just smiles and replaces the gummy pumpkins with the gummy cats. He seals the little baggy and places a sticker over the seal. The blondie and lollipop are already individually wrapped, but he still puts the blondie in another bag with a sticker over the seal and wraps a third sticker around the stick of the lollipop where the wrapper closes.

“What’s all this wrapping for?”

“It’s legal to buy, but you still are not allowed to consume marijuana in public. If we sell our goods, we have to make sure they are completely sealed when they leave the store.” After all of that, he puts everything into a white paper bag and staples it shut. “There.” He pats the bag and sets it on the counter while he goes to ring up the price. “Are you familiar with dosages, or would you like some information?”

Ash shrugs. “Shorter could probably tell me, right?”

Eiji levels him with a flat stare that raises Ash’s hackles. He seems like such a sweet kid, but that withering stare is _effective_.

“I do not trust Shorter to advise you. I’ve seen what Shorter considers a normal amount. You want to sleep, not go into a coma.”

Ash’s laughter bubbles out of him. It’s true; Shorter has always been a stoner, but now that it’s legal and he has easy access to it four days a week, his tolerance has skyrocketed. An indignant “Hey!” floats out of the kitchen, which only makes it worse, and Ash has to put a hand on the counter to steady himself while he laughs.

When he gets a grip and manages to look up, Eiji is grinning at him. He slides his card across the counter to pay for his treats and ignores the little voice in the back of his mind telling him it’s been a long time since he’s met someone so easy to talk to.

“Try one cat gummy at a time, or half of the blondie. Wait at least thirty minutes to an hour, then take another if you aren’t feeling anything. But it can take up to two hours to start feeling something, so when in doubt, just wait.”

“Alright. Thanks for the info.” He lingers, not sure what else to say now that he has what he came for. “Is Shorter still busy?”

Right on cue, Shorter comes sauntering out of the back, snapping his gloves off of his hands and sidling right to Eiji. He drops an arm over Eiji’s shoulder.

“You boys getting along?”

Eiji doesn’t seem phased by the proximity.

“Eiji was just telling me you’re the biggest pothead he knows and advising me not to take advice from you unless I want to end up in a coma.”

Shorter squawks indignantly. He pushes away from Eiji and gives him what is probably an incredulous look, slightly less effective behind the stupid sunglasses he insists on wearing at all times.

Eiji’s face is growing adorably redder, but his expression gives nothing away.

“Am I wrong?”

“...That’s not the point,” Shorter mutters.

When Shorter turns his back, Eiji shoots Ash a wink that makes his heart skip a beat.

He needs to leave before he lets his traitorous heart turn this into something it can’t be. He stuffs the bag into his backpack and turns tail to head for the exit.

“Leaving so soon?” Shorter calls.

“Stuff to do,” he answers with a wave over his shoulder.

Shorter’s snicker follows him out the door. Whatever. He doesn’t know anything.

___________________________

“How did you friend like the sweets?” Eiji asks a few days later. “Did he say?” He’s trying to be nonchalant, but judging by Shorter’s smirk, he’s probably not succeeding.

“Who, Ash?” asks Shorter, playing dumb. Eiji shoots him a dirty look.

Shorter’s stupid smirk gets bigger, like he thinks he _knows_ something.

“You should ask him yourself. I could get him to come back.”

Eiji doesn’t deign to respond, focused on cleaning the inside of the display case before the first batch of the morning.

“Want me to tell him you said hi? Pass him a note? ‘Do you like Eiji? Check yes or no?’”

He whips around and tosses the dirty rag at Shorter. “Go... bake something!”

The sound of guffawing laughter follows Shorter into the kitchen.

Eiji should have known Shorter would pull something, though— he should know better by now than to give Shorter any ammunition with which to tease him, because Shorter is the nicest guy a person will ever meet, and also a real son of a bitch sometimes. He should have guessed that somehow, magically during the slowest part of their day, Shorter would be out to lunch when the beautiful boy himself waltzes into the bakery.

Immediately, he’s flooded with conflicted feelings — anger at Shorter for butting in where it’s not his business; elation at seeing Ash again, who’s been on his mind since their last encounter; embarrassment at the obvious set-up; and, most of all, nervousness that he’ll say something dumb or otherwise make a fool of himself.

Not that he _cares_ , but.

Well.

Okay, so maybe he cares _a little_.

It’s been a long time since he’s been so quickly taken with someone. He’s not sure what it is about Ash; maybe it’s the way he holds himself, strong and confident and closed off to the world, but vulnerable when he’s unsure. Or maybe it’s his laugh, or his beautiful smile.

Ash saunters in with a nod in Eiji’s direction, which Eiji refuses to allow to affect him. He’s just another customer. He _will not_ flirt with a customer who is coming in for help.

“Shorter!” Ash calls directly to the back.

Eiji doesn’t watch Ash’s expression as he tells him, “Shorter went to lunch. He’s supposed to be back in about—” he glances at his watch “—twenty-two minutes.”

Against his better judgement, he flicks a glance at Ash out of the corner of his eye. Ash looks like he’s trying very hard to control an eyebrow spasm that, despite his best efforts, is getting the best of him.

“Which means he’s more likely to show up at least half an hour from now, yeah?”

Eiji can’t hide his grin.

Maybe, most importantly, he likes Ash for the way he wastes no time giving Shorter the shit he deserves.

He finally stops trying to look busy and wanders over to where Ash is leaning against the counter. He looks casual, at first glance, like he’s perfectly at ease and not at all bothered that his friend has ditched him for the second time in a row — but as he gets closer, Eiji can see the line of tension in his spine, the way his shoulders are just barely noticeably hunched, the way his fingers twitch like he wants to drum them on the counter but doesn’t want to seem impatient or rude.

There’s _something_ about him— _something_ that Eiji may not be able to pinpoint, but that makes him want to know Ash in a way he hasn’t longed to know someone in a very, very long time.

“Sorry to come in and waste your time,” Ash says, reaching above himself to stretch his arms and back. The hem of his shirt comes up just above his pants, exposing the smallest sliver of pale skin.

“It’s no waste of my time,” Eiji assures him, forcing himself not to ogle his customer. “I should be the one apologizing to you.

One delicate blonde eyebrow tips up in question as Ash lowers his arms and leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “Why’s that?”

“My useless employee keeps promising to help you and leaving you out to dry. I’m sure you’re not traveling all the way out here just to talk to a stranger.”

Ash’s expression grows amused, or at least, Eiji hopes it does. He says nothing, though, which pricks to life a little pang of panic that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Not that I mind talking to you!” he rushes to amend. “Not at all. You’re very good company, especially when there’s no one else around. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t talk to you if there _were_ other people around, just that, um, Shorter is never here, and you always come… when it isn’t busy…” He trails off, fight or flight response telling him that he should go into the back and hide until Ash leaves, but professionalism telling him that there’s no way he can leave a customer by himself, no matter how much of a train wreck Eiji is being.

Hopefully, judging by the little smile tugging at the corner of Ash’s lips, he’s coming off as charmingly flustered and not a creepy loser.

“Cute,” Ash says, and Eiji feels himself exhale all of the air in his lungs.

“I’m glad I amuse you,” he huffs. His face is hot, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. It would be a waste of energy when Ash can surely already see how embarrassed he is.

Then, as if he’s not tortured enough, Ash does this devastating thing, bowing his head and looking up through his eyelashes at Eiji, and says, “You do.”

There’s a loaded silence in which Eiji tries hard to reboot his brain. He watches Ash chuckle and back away to wander around the bakery again. He stops at the fresh case to look at the cupcakes, which at least serves to help Eiji find his tongue.

“Shorter made those.”

Ash glances up at him briefly and goes back to examining the sweets. “Decorated them, too?”

“Yep.”

He runs his fingertips over the glass, then yanks his hand back. “Sorry, I’m getting fingerprints all over everything.”

“I’ll have to clean it tonight either way,” Eiji says with a shrug. He’s feeling more put-together now that they’re talking about something he knows well. It’s then that he remembers that he had a questioned he meant to ask. “How did you like the products?”

“Oh, yeah, they were good. I liked the gummies and the lollipop. It just felt like eating candy.”

“That’s the idea,” Eiji says with a wink. “They worked well for you?”

“Ah, yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, but considering how awkward he was the last time the subject of his anxiety came up, Eiji doesn’t take it as a personal slight to himself or his candy-making skills.

“Well, good.”

There’s a brief uncomfortable silence in which both of them are lost for words. Their eyes meet, then disengage, then meet again as the silence stretches, and Eiji can’t stop himself from letting out an awkward laugh. It makes Ash smile, too, and some of the tension dissipates.

“Sorry,” Ash says. “I’m not good with small talk.”

Eiji feels his smile soften with something awfully close to affection. “Me neither.”

Ash rocks back on his heels. He’s tall — something Eiji has somehow failed to realize until now, despite the amount of time he’s spent looking at Ash — but his lanky build makes him look boyish. It works very well for him, with his bright green eyes and messy blond hair. He’s striking and beautiful and mesmerizing.

When he bites his lip like he is now, Eiji can’t help but wonder what it might feel like if Ash bit _his_ lip like that. He blushes up to his ears when he catches himself staring; there’s no way Ash hasn’t noticed.

“You know,” Ash starts, “I want to be mad at Shorter for blowing me off, especially since he’s obviously trying to set us up, and he knows I hate being set up.”

Eiji’s heart stutters to a stop. He waits, unsure what to say and hoping there’s a “but” coming. Ash watches him before he continues. Eiji has no idea what Ash is looking for, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t _breathe_ , until Ash starts again.

He must find whatever he’s looking for in Eiji’s expression, because he smiles softly, no indication that he’s been made uncomfortable or feels any sort of resentment over the situation.

“But I’m starting to think I should thank him.”

“Oh?” Eiji’s heart rate spikes as it restarts and races to catch up with the conversation. “Why is that?”

“Because,” Ash says with a shrug, as if that answers everything. He aims the full force of his piercing green gaze at Eiji, and Eiji knows then that he’s absolutely screwed, because he has it bad for this boy, and he’s sure Ash knows it. “Got a pen?”

Eiji blinks. The change in topic has him reeling with emotional whiplash. He goes to the register and plucks a pen out of the metal pencil cup he keeps next to it and hands it to Ash.”

“Paper?”

He returns to the register and feeds out a strip of receipt paper and hands that over, too. He must look confused — he certainly feels it — because Ash just smirks at him and bends down to write something on the scrap of paper. When he’s finished, he folds it in half, then folds it again, and slips it into his back pocket.

The back door bangs open loud enough to startle them both. Eiji looks up at the clock — twenty-two minutes on the dot since Ash’s arrival.

“Yo! I’m back and ready to make! this! bread!” The last three syllables are each punctuated with a clap, growing louder as Shorter makes his way from the back, through the door, and into the customer service area. “Sup,” he says to Ash with a nod.

Ash scoffs and crosses his arms, assuming an unaffected stance. “Nice of you to show up.”

“Not my fault your timing is terrible,” Shorter drawls.

Ash raises one thin eyebrow. “It is literally your fault.”

Shorter is completely unfazed. He picks up the inventory chart and begins his afternoon count. “Are you complaining about it? Didn’t seem to bother you the other night when you were on my couch with a blondie in you.” He stops, pulls down his sunglasses, and winks.

Ash makes to punch him but Shorter bounces away from the counter with a mischievous smile. He shoots Eiji a look — a raised eyebrow, expectant kind of look — and Eiji takes the hint.

“OW, what—”

Shorter looks between the two of them like he can’t believe what’s just happened. It takes him a second, and then he just smirks and goes back to his inventory sheet, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. A combined time of less than an hour together and you’re already ganging up against me.”

There’s nothing to say to that because, yeah, they kind of are. It’s fun. It’s… surprisingly comfortable.

Silence lingers for a few short moments. Ash clears his throat to get Shorter’s attention (Eiji’s is still on him, has been since they first met). “So, did you actually want me for anything?”

“I want for nothing, my friend,” Shorter drawls. “Just for my two good buddies to be happy. Preferably together.”

Eiji knows his face has been some shade of red for most of Ash’s visit. That’s just the way it is. It gets just a smidge redder, probably, when he catches Ash’s eye and sees him smiling at him. He smiles back. There’s something fluttering inside him, and he likes it. He likes how he feels when Ash is around.

“You gonna buy something anyway?” Shorter asks. Ash shrugs. Shorter follows his inventory sheet back into the kitchen.

It feels like the natural end to this interaction, and Eiji feels a pang of disappointment. He wonders when Ash will come back again. It _seems_ like Ash enjoys his company, too, so it’s not so crazy to think maybe he’ll want to come see Eiji again, too. At least, he hopes it’s not crazy.

“Well, if there is anything you want, or if you would like more suggestions, I am happy to help,” Eiji says. He hopes Ash can’t read his disappointment.

“Sure,” Ash agrees. “Whatever you think is good. Just, uh, no pumpkins and nothing pumpkin flavored.”

“Pumpkin flavor is only in the fall,” Eiji says with a smile. “You are safe. For now. Do you plan to eat something today, or would you like something that can keep for a while?”

“Keep for a while would be best,” Ash says. “I don’t do this much.” He eyes the cupcake rack again. “Too bad. Some of these look amazing, especially that one.” He points out a lemon cupcake with lemon icing and blueberry pie filling inside and on top. “But I want to be clearheaded tonight.”

“Why is that?” Eiji asks as he bags up more of the gummies in varying shapes and a box of already-packed chocolates. He throws in two lollipops because he knows Ash likes those.

Ash’s credit card is already on the counter, so when he’s done showing Ash what he picked out and getting his approval for the total, he swipes it and sets it back down before he goes about double-packing everything.

The door buzzes and Eiji looks up, expecting to see another customer coming in, but instead sees Ash halfway out the door, turned to look.

“Just bring them to me later. When your shift is over.”

“What—”

Ash is out the door before Eiji can finish asking his question. He looks down at the counter, startled, ready to grab Ash’s card and run after him, but in its place is the piece of receipt paper from earlier.

There’s an address on it. No phone number.

Eiji smiles.

Well, he’ll just have to show up then, won’t he?

___________________________

There’s a knock on the door just before 10 PM. Ash finishes the sentence he’s reading, marks his place, and puts down his book.

A quick glance around the apartment shows that it’s still clean and tidy. A glance down at himself shows that his clothes are clean and appropriate.

He walks to the door and doesn’t even bother to look through the peep hole. He knows who it is.

The door swings open, and he smiles at his guest. He looks like he went home first and cleaned up before coming over. It’s sweet.

“I’m glad you came,” Ash says. “Please, come in.”

Eiji steps inside and looks around.

“Are you hungry?” he asks. “I’d be happy to make you dinner if you haven’t eaten.

“Dinner would be nice,” Eiji says.

Ash smiles and guides him to the kitchen island where he can sit and talk while Ash cooks. “It’s a date.”

Eiji smiles back. “It’s a date.”


End file.
